


if we had confessions...

by carloabay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carloabay/pseuds/carloabay
Summary: Remus isn't sure what made him realise: the sun, or the girl. But now he has a secret, a question, and a confession.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	if we had confessions...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [li0nheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/li0nheart/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Lion Hearts - Book 1, Golden.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927835) by [li0nheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/li0nheart/pseuds/li0nheart). 



> The lovely li0nheart: I salute you in this time of madness, your fics are a blessing, creative and beautifully written, and I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Stay happy, healthy and safe, everyone ♥️

“Oh, Merlin’s _balls_!”

“True, he’d rather you didn’t expose him like that,” Remus said drowsily, tipping his head into the crook of his elbow to avoid the blinding green of the shielded sun on his eyelids. His vision turned to a fuzz of red and grey and Verity treated him to a light whack on the knee with her dream diary.

“I forgot we had that witch-hunting essay due! Have I- have I done it? No, I can’t have...” and she dived into her bag, rustling and grumbling and scattering the springy grass with books and bits of parchment. Remus rolled onto his stomach, waving his green-stained socks in the air, and watched her empty out her bag with amusement thinly stretched across his face. 

They were covered in the checkered shade of an old oak tree whose roots knotted out into the shallows of the lake, and every so often, a warm blanket of a breeze would stir the leaves above them, casting squares of yellow onto their books and parchment. If the sun caught Verity’s face, it would slip gold into the hazel of her eye, or drape her hair and shoulder in sparkling richness. It dazzled Remus’s eyes a little.

Across the spreading, warm lawns, little pockets of students were hunched like hags over their books, or sunning themselves with their robes used for rugs, or waving their wands carelessly through the lazy air, shooting little bursts of sparks here and there. Remus and Verity had been outside since second period, studiously finishing their homework. By now though, almost lunchtime, they had discarded their robes and shoes, and their notebooks were slowly cooking in the summer sun.

“Damn,” Verity muttered, narrowing her eyes at the contents of her bag, strewn across the light-crossed grass. She crossed her legs and tapped her fingernail on the hard heel of her shoe. Remus blinked lazily, and a bee zipped past his nose. “Well, we’ve got yet another free period after lunch, I guess I could do it then. When is lunch? Is it soon?” She was looking at him, straight-backed and expectant, and Remus realised he was looking right back. He jumped, accidentally bit the inside of his cheek, and stuttered out an answer.

“Oh, nearly, yes, I suppose...it’d have to be,” he managed, eyes smarting from the wound in his mouth. Verity just grinned.

“Sleepy, are you? A weary-wolf?”

“Don’t start,” Remus groaned, flopping onto his side to stare at the sparkling water by his head and collect himself. He’d been bloody well staring at the way her bloody _skin_ looked in the bloody _sun_. Verity gave a little snuffle of a laugh at her own joke and started to pack her things back into her bag.

“I’m starving, honestly,” she said, oblivious to Remus glaring at the clear shallows of the lake like the Giant Squid might pop up, slap him in the face and tell him to get it together. “I hope they have cake. Aren’t you coming?” He looked over, and she was halfway to her feet, all her things packed tidily away in her bag. Dimly, as he scrabbled for his shoes, he wondered what on earth was going on in his head; maybe the transformation a few days ago had muddled his brain as well as his muscles. 

Eventually, with his tie askew and his robes thrown over his arm, Remus ran a hand through his grass-tangled hair, pulled himself into a semblance of dignity, and started off over the lawns with Verity at his side.

Lunch was the sort of silent affair that drifts slyly between two people who have yet to know something. Remus ate chicken pie and steamed, buttery potatoes and green beans and rice pudding with a heap of sugary jam, all without barely pausing for breath. Verity watched him inhale his food with incredulity and amazement.

"Gosh, hungry as a wolf, aren't you?" she said, innocently spooning thick Victoria sponge into her mouth. Remus, not daring to pause and answer lest he make a damn fool of himself, merely waved his spoon expressively. "Yeah, you really are carnivorous," Verity observed, with a half-laid grin. Remus spent the rest of lunch methodically rolling his eyes at her increasingly ridiculous wolf references. The rest of the Great Hall dimmed to nothing, but he only noticed the absence of...well, _noticing_ , when Verity suggested they returned to the lake. And then the noise and space and the presence of the rest of the world besides Verity flooded into his little bubble, and Remus felt very much the worse for it.

They returned to the lake for their last free period before Verity would have Divination and Remus would have Arithmancy. He thought about going their different ways as they crossed the lawn, back to their shaded tree, and decided he didn't much care for the separation. And so they spent each second of that green-filled, warm, single hour beneath the oak tree sitting by together as they dangled their feet in the chilled lake shallows, seeing who could spot the Plimpies before their toes got nibbled. Verity kept winning, and each time accused Remus of letting her win, but in truth, Remus was far too distracted by the overlap of two of Verity's fingers over his own to concentrate on Plimpies. And really, he thought desperately, she kept telling jokes! Who wouldn't be distracted when one had to keep catching all the obscure literary references she threw in? (Although, if he was being honest, he didn't get any of them until she made an overexaggerated morose expression and he just _had_ to figure them out so she'd _stop giving him that face_ ).

∆

"Extracted from the ashes of the dead, they search for innocents they might find near..." Remus leaned his head back against the wall, trying to focus on the theatre unfolding before him instead of Verity's fingers on his own earlier that day, and Peter curled his arms into claws, his lip drawn back comically over his round little teeth. James sniggered and stuffed Cockroach Clusters into his mouth, and Peter threw back his head dramatically, his shadow rippling ten times bigger on the ceiling. "They'd sing a song," he shrieked, "but howl the howl instead..." and Sirius cupped his hands to his mouth and tried a rough, curdling imitation of a howl. Remus gave a long suffering sigh, and Sirius offered him a left-slanted grin that promised nothing but mockery. "Forgetting time and what has brought them here," Peter valiantly carried on. James threw a chocolate at him and he caught it skilfully in his mouth, to a hollering cheer from Sirius. Peter pumped the air with his fist.

"Keep going!" James called, and Peter struck a dramatic pose, nose wrinkled in a pretend snarl. Remus fought a laugh.

"The innocents they find complete their quest," he roared, hunching onto all fours and creeping to the end of his bed, ridiculous in his blue pyjamas. He paused. Remus pursed his lips to avoid a smile. "I can't...remember the rest..." Peter finished, with an experimental growl. James hooted and Sirius threw pillows like confetti, and Peter stood for a swooping bow.

"You're all idiots," Remus said with a grin and a shake of his head.

"You're the idiot, mate," Sirius said, poking him in the side. "Hey, how's Wilde doing these days?" Remus slapped his finger away, his ears burning.

"Oh, shut up."

"No, come on, Remus!"

"When you gonna ask her out, Remus?"

"Be brave, Moooony!" howled Sirius, and Remus slapped him full in the face with a pillow.

∆

"You lot were roaring like goons last night," Lily said crossly, as they passed the boys and headed for their seats. "Chandni was in a right state, trying to get to sleep." Remus studied his timetable as Verity went past, trying very hard to ignore the unsubtle grin that was spreading over Peter's face. James unconsciously fixed his hair, but Lily's reproachful eye didn't even pass over him and Remus smirked at his timetable, but his peace didn't last long. As soon as the girls were out of earshot, Peter pounced on his arm.

"She gave you the eye," he said breathlessly.

"The what?" Remus protested, disentangling himself. Sirius rolled his eyes and rested a graceful elbow on the table.

"Peter calls the face girls do when they like you the _eye_ ," he said. Peter nodded enthusiastically. "Here, watch this. Hey, Gemma!" He caught the attention of a curvy girl at the Ravenclaw table, and she shot him a sultry look as a result. Sirius grinned and spread his hands, leaning back in his seat like he'd just performed a magic trick. "The eye. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a girl to attend to." And he unfolded himself from his seat and sauntered over to curvy Gemma with one hand in his pocket, his tie undone and his hair in his face. 

"You're sure?" Remus asked dubiously, trying to squash hope. He didn't think Verity would be caught dead with that kind of expression on her face, but Peter was pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice and James was still watching Lily, his fork halfway to his mouth. Remus groaned. It looked like he was in this on his own, then.

∆

"Boy troubles? Goodness me, I can't relate." Peggy sipped her perfumed tea and gazed warily at the leaves in the bottom, as if daring them to rearrange themselves into something nasty. Verity pursed her lips and frowned out at the open window. It breathed magic and strings of sweet smells into the air, high above the rest of the castle. She liked the height of the Divination tower; the view was like that from a broom, and she never felt more free than when she was zooming in and out of clouds and goalposts and players.

"He's just quiet. It's not really boy troubles, we're not _together_..." she trailed off and flushed, and Peggy raised her eyebrows expectantly over the edge of her cup.

"He's a quiet boy, isn't he?" she prompted, when Verity didn't elaborate.

"Yes, but he's gotten different. I don't know how, exactly." She frowned, a little cross with herself, and Peggy quickly waved a slender hand through the freshening air.

"Your aura is troubling me, dear," Peggy hummed. "Come on, now. Relax. Don't be worried. Drink your tea, there's a good girl, remember to direct your energy, just like in lessons. We'll figure this out." She smiled gently, eyes closed, as if listening, entranced. Verity smoothed out her forehead, sipped her aromatic tea, and slumped back in her chair. "There we are. The querent must be...relaxed."

"Right. What should I do?" she sighed.

"Maybe you should invite him round for tea," Peggy said wickedly. "Let your Aunty Peg take a crack at the boy." Verity laughed, and started to swirl her tea leaves. And distantly, as she thought of love and partners, she hoped for something close. Something soon. Something...Remus-y?

∆

It wasn't a _date_. Not really. At least, he didn't ask her out with the _intention_ of a date; he only asked if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade. With him. Just the two of them. She'd given him one of her sly, confused glances, and agreed, so that was that. Not a date. More like a covenant. Merlin, he was bad at this.

So he met her at the carriages, twisting his shirt between his fingers, his heart thrumming painfully in his head. She came down the steps in dungarees and a t-shirt coloured the most cheerful shade of yellow he'd ever seen, and Remus rearranged himself and his expression and his nervous long fingers and he tried not to look like he was escorting her on a date. Because it wasn't a date.

The carriage ride wasn't awkward. At least, not for Verity. She chattered about having Remus up in her Aunt Peg's rooms for tea one day, with Chandni too, and about asking Hagrid if he might take her to see a unicorn one day, and about Fenela's latest letter and the secrets she seemed to hide behind Alastor's long coat and the closed study door and how were Hope and Lyall doing at the moment?

Remus tried an answer, then a different one, then a smile, then a joke, and then the carriage rudely jolted them into their destination. He held the door open for her and hopped lightly down after she'd got out, and then Verity, predictably, made straight for Honeydukes. Remus grinned and sped up to get there with her.

They ended up racing, down the sun-warmed cobbles, giggling like pixies and feeling much younger than their sixteen year old selves. More like little kids, sprinting over the moss to get home for tea.

Remus won, of course, and Verity pouted at him until he held the door open again, this time with a melodramatic bow, and Verity pretended to swoon.

"Gosh! My knight in shining armour!" And she swept into the shop ahead of him. Remus stuck his hand into his pocket, fingering his few Sickles, and vowing to buy her tea at the teashop, instead of spending it on chocolate. It wasn't a _date_. He could still do nice things for his friends, right?

Lily, Chandni and Marlene were already greeting Verity by the time Remus had squeezed his way through the sugary, hyper crowd to get to her.

"Ladies," he said, barely holding back an ear-burning flush of embarrassment. Lily was grinning like a tiger, and Chandni looked suspiciously excited.

"Ooh, they've got something new!" Verity gasped, bounding over to the frozen aisle. "God, yes, chocolate fudge Knarls, gimme!" Remus ignored her food-fuelled moan, but only just, and furiously berated himself for at least a minute while Verity bought her Knarls, for being such a disgusting teenage boy, who would drool over his goddamn best friend and-- "Can we go to the teashop?" Verity asked, dragging him out of the shop by his wrist. Remus started to short-circuit. "Only Slughorn's always in the Broomsticks, and...mm...nah. You know?"

"Absolutely," Remus said, very carefully. She still hadn't let go of his wrist. She noticed. She let go of his wrist, to quickly to be nonchalant. "Madame Puddifoots it is." And she grinned, and the summer sun turned her eyes to spots of gold again. Or maybe that was just how they always were.

Madame Puddifoots, in hindsight, had maybe been a bad idea. It was packed with couples and groups of girls. Very loud, grating on Remus's sensitive ears. Quite romantic, too. And this was not a _date_.

Verity ordered an iced tea- "Because it's bloody hot. Aunt Peg would disown me, don't ever tell her, would you?" -and Remus took a black tea and dumped an inordinate amount of sugar into it. Verity traced his hand from the pot to his cup with amusement in her eyes, and he paused in the act of stirring his tea when he caught her. She turned a little pink. "Sorry. That's...a lot of sugar."

"I like sweet things," Remus said, smiling at her like a goon. Verity just smiled right back.

"I'll remember that, then." And then she turned a little more pink, starkly so in the fresh light of the teashop. Remus busied himself with his tea. 

They sat and talked for a while, as others came and went, and both teas washed down a fair few biscuits and cakes. They didn't seem to talk about much, but that was the beauty of their friendship, Remus thought. A conversation with Verity could just be a conversation. He never had to have a reason to talk to her. _Friendship_ , he thought firmly as her calf pressed against his knee. His legs were too long to fit properly under the table, and he kept encroaching on her space and knocking against the wood. It made her laugh, so he didn't deign to tuck his feet under his chair.

He paid for the teas and the biscuits with all of his Sickles, and Verity looked a little worried about it until Remus caught her expression and answered it with a smile of his own.

"You don't have to-"

"It's seriously alright," he said, cutting her off softly. "I know how much you like this place. I thought I'd treat you."

"Why, you perfect gentleman," Verity teased, drawing a joke over her discomfort. Remus knew she knew all about his family's financial situation, but for her, he'd pay for all the tea and cakes in the world. His friend. His friend?

"Want to go to the bookshop?" he asked, and her eyes widened.

"Do I ever!" She scrambled from her chair and they both went for the door, bursting out into the street with the same mad laugh. 

They made it to the bookshop, completely out of breath, and they drew a haughty look from the manager when they burst through the door, messy and excited. Remus led the way through the shelves, almost all the way to the back, and Verity followed, hungrily devouring the titles, both of them oblivious to the bustle of the Hogsmeade street outside. In here, together, it didn't exist. But then Verity paused, tugged on his arm. Remus looked around and she turned to him with a look that for once, he couldn't quite decipher. Not sly and confused. Not discomfited. Not laughing. Not teasing. Not hungry. 

"Remus," she started, and he could almost feel the hope flickering and squashing itself in his stomach.

"Yeah?" he asked, still a little breathless from the laugh and the run, a lock of fluffy hair hanging over his eye. Verity looked at it and...pink again. Flushing behind her freckles. What on earth was going on? The bookshop cosied them in its tall, dusty quiet. The shelves like pillars, the books like private sentinels. She was looking at him very, very seriously.

"Was this a date?" she asked. No tone. He couldn't have told if she was hopeful or squeamish or confused, and if anyone should have been able to tell, it would have been him. He stood, shoulder leant against an old copy of _Before Jamaica Lane_. By Samantha Young, proclaimed the cracked spine. Remus hid it from Verity with the slope of his arm; she never could stand to see books mistreated. She had asked him a question. If he was being honest, he had rather a lot of questions himself, but he also had answers she had to hear. She deserved to know, one way or another.

"Did...did you want it to be?" God, _stupid_. But she looked down, so far down that her eyes vanished beneath her lids, her lashes fanned out across her freckled cheeks, and Remus wished for those hazel-gold eyes. It wasn't just the sun that made them gold. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath with hope until he had run out of it, and she was still looking at her feet.

"I think-"

"Moony, there you are! We've been looking for you all over! We've got an emergency!" The two of them whipped around, curiously, and James was leaning out of the stacks, gesturing furiously and speaking in hushed whispers. Then he went utterly still, and some kind of terrible realisation marred his face. "Am I...interrupting?" he asked, starting to grin slowly. Remus tilted his head, hiding rage behind a tight smile, and James cringed.

"Not if it's an emergency," Verity said lightly, sweetly. Remus's stomach seemed to drop to his toes, and James's face turned sour and regretful very quickly. Verity looked at her shoes. Remus stared to the heavens, praying for salvation, preferably something not in the form of James.

"Right," James said briskly, probing the awkward, tension-filled silence. "Come along then, Moony."

"Alright," Remus said dully. "Sorry, True." She twitched, with irritation or something else, he didn't know. There was a lot he wasn't knowing right now. 

"S'alright. I'll see you around, won't I?"

"Yeah," Remus said. And then he walked away. Away from the books and the afternoon of Verity, away from a confession of a secret, and an answer to a hopeful question. He looked back, very discreetly, but even under the dim light of the bookshop, even with her head bent over a book, Verity's eyes were still that hazel-gold. And she had a little smile, like something had gone her way. Remus left before he could tear himself apart anymore, but there was a little bit of happy in him: fuelled by a golden glint and Verity's tiny smile.

**Author's Note:**

> ♥️
> 
> The poem Peter recites is Call Of The Werewolf by Ron Wilson Arbuthnot, aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet.


End file.
